It’s Not a Cave

It’s a small cell
With a bad view,
A thin window

Through a long wall,
Sealed at both ends—
All day you pace

The unlit room,
Locking your eyes
To that slot of light.

At the far end
Of the window
Is the outside,

And what you squint
At through the glass
Is your whole view.

From this info,
More than shadows,
Less than presence,

You choose.